During a reflective moment yesterday, lyrics to Daryl Hall and John Hall’s 1970s song Sara’s Smile meandered evocatively around my neurological corridors. These locutions floated around my mind, gently blown along by a metaphorical zephyr. Calming and soothing my soul, evoking thoughts of my beau Sarah.
Sure, unlike Daryl Hall’s girlfriend Sara, my Ossett squeeze has an ‘h’ suffix attached to her moniker. However, as Brooky’s broadly West Yorkshire dialect leads to her frequently dropping that letter in words, there seemed something almost poetic about that omission.
An example of Sarah’s wonderfully quirky ‘h’ drops includes naming BBC tv’s Homes Under The Hammer as ‘Omes Under ‘Ammer… Also, I am reliably informed, her favourite animal is a ‘orse.
Thinking of Hall’s motive of writing his prose as a reverential refrain to his love, I had notions of perhaps writing a non-musical sonnet for my fragrant wingman. On reflection, though, I mused that romantic verse was perhaps not my creative strong point.
Although I’d like to think I am a reasonable versatile writer, I cannot recall even penning prose in which I speak of my love for anyone with one less ‘x’ chromosome than me… Or, coming to think of it, the same ‘xy’ chromosomes as me.
Why have I never ventured down that literary avenue, I hear you cry… An inquiry I would struggle to answer… Perhaps it is because I’m just not good at, or comfortable with, exhibiting my amour through prose.
I am far more comfortable expressing my feelings, even those of amouric devotion, through whimsy. For example, it would take me ages to write a serious romantic poem; yet I’d back myself to write a ‘love’ limerick in ten minutes… In fact, let’s put it to the test… Starting NOW…
The was a woman called Sarah
Who was a highly accomplished swearer
She used words rhyming with duck
Hunt, frastard and truck
Even if you hadn’t dared her!
Right, that took me four minutes to pen… Not the best limerick you’ll ever hear or read; but I’d venture it’s not bad for a creation of less than five minutes.
There was a young girl called Brooky
Who at high school often played hooky
Instead, she’d go play
Down Gildersome way
But confirms there was never any nooky
That limerick took me three minutes… Not a bad achievement; yet I’m still bereft of ideas (or too lazy to come out of my comfort zone) to pen a sensible love sonnet. In lieu of this I bequeath my Sarah the lyrics Daryl Hall wrote for his Sara….
Baby hair with a woman’s eyes
I can feel you watching in the night
All alone with me and we’re waiting for the sunlight
When I feel cold, you warm me
When I feel I can’t go on you come and hold me
Its you and me forever
Sara smile
Won’t you smile a while for me?
If you feel like leaving, you know you can go
But why don’t you stay until tomorrow?
And if you want to be free, all you have to do is say so
When you feel cold, I’ll warm you
And when you feel you can’t go on, I’ll come and hold you
Its you and me forever
Sara smile
Won’t you smile a while for me?
To close, on a re-read of the lyrics, and due to the fact she generally has a face like a slapped arse (not a smiley one), I’ve decided to rescind the latter as my love song to Sazington and go with my original limerick offerings.
And they say, like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, romance is dead!
